


May Ithaca be Ours

by Rosasharn



Series: Mythology [2]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, It's so sweet though, Karl cries a lot, Karl is Penelope, M/M, Sapnap is Odysseus, Soulmates, Twelve Gods of Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), War, greek myth retelling, i wrote this instead of my essay, side patrochilles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29794143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosasharn/pseuds/Rosasharn
Summary: A retelling of selections from The Odyssey, but make it gay and centered around minecraft youtubers.
Relationships: Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Series: Mythology [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189712
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	May Ithaca be Ours

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here's another one because they're so addicting. This one turned out so much longer than I expected lol. Same type of thing where Sapnap is Odysseus and Karl is Penelope. Again, this is my interpretation and I definitely stray sometimes from the original story!
> 
> If you've ever read any of Madeline Miller's works, this is heavily inspired by her writing :)

Oftentimes, Karl was overlooked. He was bright with youth and quick witted. His hair a smooth brown that fell in loose curls, with a boyish face and freckles dotting his cheeks that spread across his nose. He was pretty in a simple way. He was no comparison to his cousin Helen. He knew this, but it did not bother him much. He enjoyed being away from the spotlight, loved to make faces and stifle laughs behind the rest of his siblings. He was cunning, more intelligent than anyone really knew, but he kept it to himself, another thing he loved to hide.

It was easy too, no one went out of their way to notice him. He thought it would be that way always. He was not looking for marriage or a partner, no women he had ever seen had sparked any interest in him. His eyes glossed over them like they were not there. That would change for him in a strange suddenness, and it would not be a woman who was the culprit.

Helen’s suitors crowded in their high-ceilinged throne room. There were hundreds of them and it was stuffy in the room. Karl sat stiffly on the dais next to his cousins. They wore thick white veils covering their faces and Karl wished he were a woman so that he could hide his own as well. He felt uncomfortable up there, like he was on display. Helen whispered something to him about one of the suitors and he bit down on a grin. He searched out the one she was referring to.

“Him? That one is Menelaus?” No one was watching him and they did not get in trouble.

“Do not sound so crass. I hope it is he father chooses.” Karl allowed a small smile to slip onto his lips. The room was filled with Kings and Princes, relatives of the Gods and companions to great Heroes. His eyes danced around the room, from person to person, man to boy, all here to ask for Helen’s hand in marriage. She was the most beautiful women in all of their countries, after all.

Then, there was someone looking back at him. He froze, stunned, and did not look away. The gaze was electric even at a distance and he could not bring himself to break it. The man was youthful, his own age, with a scruffy red beard and short cropped hair. There was a sly look to his features, but he stared at Karl with something like surprise.

His father’s voice broke the spell finally, pulling his gaze away from that of the strange man. He called the first man in line forward, and he dropped the first gift into what would become a towering pile of glimmering gold. His father would be wealthy after the whole event. Each came and went, knelt at King Tyndareus’ feet and introduced themselves, then stood and moved the side to wait.

Karl tuned them all out, instead counting all of the ways he could sneak out of the room when no one was looking. Then stepped forward a boy. He was too young to be there and it was obvious, he could not have been older than ten, but his father stood broad behind him. The boy was bony and thin, looking fragile pressed against the stone floor. Karl wondered what need he had for a wife so young. His father, Menoitius, spoke mostly for him.

“She would be the Queen of my kingdom, for my wife is ill and not fit to rule. She would gain much wealth and be treated as wonderfully as she deserves.”

Karl could see the disgust on his father’s face. It had not been enough to convince him and definitely not enough to make him forget that Menoitius had both a lame wife and son. He would not let his prized daughter fall into ruin in the same way. However, it was not Tyndareus’ voice that rose above the crowd, but another.

“Now, you said the suitor was your son. Was that a lie?” It was the man from before that had looked directly at Karl, he was sitting on the bench, still having yet to introduce himself. Karl noticed that he was the last in line and did not look the least bit nervous. Menoitius turned violently to him, raging silently.

“I did not ask you to speak, son of Laertes,” he said. The son of Laertes did not flinch, but remained grinning madly. Karl leaned forward involuntarily, trying to catch every word that fell from his mouth.

“You did not have to. Do not worry, I mean no harm to you. I am here only to watch, I am already transfixed by another.” His eyes flicked to meet Karl’s. Karl’s breath caught in his throat and he dug his finger nails into the palm of his hand. Surely he had imagined that.

“Another?” Menoitius voiced the question they were all thinking. The son of Laertes smiled a toothy grin and shrugged his shoulders. The proceedings went on.

“Son of Laertes,” Tyndareus spoke at long last. “What have you to say that you have waiting so long in disinterest?”

“Only that I wonder what you will do when one man here wins the hand of Helen, and the rest turn on you.” The man was still as relaxed as ever, as if his words meant nothing to him and he was threatened by no one. Perhaps he wasn’t. Tyndareus’ face tightened.

“And I’m sure you have an opinion on what I should do?” The son of Laertes’ grin widened impossibly.

“Of course. You let Helen decide.” There was a scatter of disbelief that passed through the room. _Let a woman decide?_ “But before you do that, everyone here must swear an oath to protect Helen’s choice of husband and defend against those who would separate them.”

Karl stared in wonder at this man who had so shaken the tide of the room. He wasvastly different from everyone else there, smart and even-tempered. He could not take his eyes off of him, and waited on the edge of his seat for the moment where their eyes would meet again. When they had all signed, including this son of Laertes, Helen rose and spoke the name Karl had known she was going to pick. Her and Menelaus would marry soon enough. It would be the second marriage between their family and that of the Atreus’. Karl was contented to see things go his cousin’s way, and he was restless to step off of the dais and slink out of sight once again.

The people began to drain out of the courtroom, and he was guided away with his cousins back into the confines of the palace. Fleetingly, he threw a look over his shoulder in hopes of seeing the son of Laertes once more, but he was no where to be seen.

It was not until much later in the day, when the sky was darkening, that he saw him again.

Karl wandered the palace halls trying to get him off his mind. He tried desperately to figure out what it was that struck him so profoundly about him. It was like he had been struck with one of Eros’ arrows, he could not stop thinking about him and every time his heart fluttered uselessly. He swallowed thickly when he wondered if maybe he preferred men over women. It would not be unusual for someone of his age, at least. He thought of the God Apollo and how he had taken men as lovers. The famed Hyacinthus came to his mind first. He smiled down at his feet and sent a prayer to him in hopes that he would guide him.

He did not even notice the figure step out of the shadows in front of him until he ran into him. Strong hands steadied him, warm against his sides. He gasped and tried to pull away, looking up in scorn, but stopped suddenly when he recognized the face. His struggle dissipated and his face softened.

“Hi,” said the son of Laertes. His voice was sweeter up close, a tad gruff but songlike in its gestures. He let Karl go, but he was hesitant to move away.

“Hello,” he said breathlessly, still gazing up in wonder. He had thought the man to be long gone.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I am Sapnap.” He bowed his head and Karl lifted a hand to cover his mouth so as not to show his giddiness.

“Karl.” He extended the hand and Sapnap took it gently, then lifted it to his mouth and pressed his lips to his knuckles. A shiver passed through him. Karl grinned madly up at him. “How did you get in here?” Sapnap scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“I- well. I crawled through the bracken at the back of castle. There’s a-“

“A door, yes.” Karl’s face lit up and he laughed. “It used to be for the servants, I keep it unlocked for when I need to escape.”

A grin stretched across Sapnap’s features and he chuckled. “Is that so?”

“I’ll bet you went straight through, too! Didn’t you?” Sapnap pursed his lips and nodded. “Right through the thorn bush, huh? You have to go around to the right to avoid it.”

“Now you tell me,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I bet your legs are scraped up, aren’t they?” Karl had done the same thing many times, and the memory made him shake his head. Before he figured out how to maneuver around it, he had started keeping chamomile in his room always to help heal the shallow cuts.

“I’m not so worried about the appearance of my legs.”

“No one you’re trying to impress?” Karl raised his eyebrows at him playfully.

“The only person here I’m trying to impress is you.” Sapnap eyed him up and down from the side and Karl flushed a deep pink. “But, to be honest with you, I was referring to the scar on my calf. My legs are already a sight for sore eyes.” It was a dry joke, but Karl saw a bit of truth behind it.

“Show me,” he implored with soft eyes. Sapnap hesitated, looked at him, then away, then back again. He bent down onto one knee and began to roll up his pant leg. Slowly the scar was unwrapped, long and feathered. It twisted around his calf from the base of his ankle up to the side of his knee. Karl knelt in front of him, fingers fluttering over the protruding skin.

“How did you get this?” He asked. He looked at Sapnap with wide eyes, hyperaware of just how close they were. There were a couple red streaks across his shin that Karl recognized from the thorn bush.

“Hunting incident. A boar came at me and I was lucky to make out with my heart still beating,” the other said. He stood up again and took Karl’s hand to help him up.

“I have chamomile flowers in my room, come.” He turned and left before Sapnap could protest. His room wasn’t very far. He opened the door quietly and ushered Sapnap in. Karl found his lantern and lit the fire, casting a warm glow in the cozy room. Sapnap looked around, admiring the rich fabrics and deep maroon colors. He sat on the bed while Karl dug through his things.

“Here.” He pulled out a twined bundle of the small white flowers that was wrapped in a cloth. They had been hung out to dry and crunched in his fist. He went to Sapnap and pulled the fabric away from his legs. He wet the cloth with his mouth and hastily cleaned the scrapes, then he pulled a couple of the buds out and crushed them in his palm. He spat into his hand and created a paste out of the mixture, then spread a thin layer over each angry red line. Sapnap watched him curiously the whole time.

“Do you do this often?” Karl looked up at him behind the hair that had fallen in front of his face.

“For myself, yes. I spend a lot of time outdoors.” He placed a hand on his knee, finished with his work. “There, I find that combination works pretty quickly to heal shallow wounds.”

“Thank you.” Sapnap let it dry then stood up.

“You are welcome,” Karl said. They stood in the middle of the room, staring at each other, until finally Karl turned swiftly and brought them out into the hall once again.

They walked through the castle together and continued to chat idly. Karl came to find out that he was a king, but not a rich one. He hailed from Ithaca, a small and poor land filled with farms and livestock. Karl did not care, he had never met someone who could hold such lively conversation with him. He was _funny,_ making Karl laugh until his cheeks hurt. It did not take him long to realize he would do anything to stay with Sapnap, even return to his kingdom of cows and corn. There was nothing much for him here in any case, and he loved the company more than anything in the world.

The gardens were bathed in moonlight when Karl took him there. The moon peeked at them from behind fluffy clouds, and the sky lingered pink and orange at the horizon. It made the flowers even more vibrant and reflected beautifully off of the waters. Everyone was at dinner, and they were alone. Sapnap pressed in close to him when they lingered to take in the pretty sight. Karl blushed under the stars, cheeks warming as he stared up at them. Slowly, not wanting to scare the either of them, he reached for Sapnap’s hand between them.

Sapnap took his hand with ease, linking their fingers and sighing contentedly. The smile that touched Karl’s lips was blissful. Sapnap turned to him and his hair caught fire from the waning rays of the setting sun.

“Come back with me, to Ithaca,” he said. Karl smiled wider and brighter and nodded, grabbing his other hand and holding them both. They stared into each others eyes.

“I would love to.”

-

Sapnap had not been lying about Ithaca. It was a rural land and the palace where he lived was rustic and small. Karl did not mind it, the conversations they had were vast and spectacular and made up for it infinitely. They spent most of their time alone.

They never stopped talking, in between bites at dinner, on winding walks through the forest, even in dreams they found each other on occasion. They grew close quickly, inseparable. There was no one around to notice or judge, and the times were happy and warm.

One night, after a truly peculiar dream, Karl lifted from his bed and walked to Sapnap’s room almost on instinct to tell him about it. The only time they separated was to sleep, it had always been that way. But on this night, Karl was dreamy still and could not find a reason to stay away. His feet slapped on the stone as he walked the short distance. It was dark in the halls, not a single lantern lit, but the moonlight poured in to guide him.

Sapnap’s door was cracked open and Karl pushed in silently. He was fast asleep, of which Karl had never seen him, and it stopped him in his tracks. He looked down on the sleeping form, his features relaxed peacefully and highlighted in silver by the moon filtering in through his window. He was suddenly overcome with emotion, and he choked back the rising tears.

The sleeping man stirred, then blinked awake. His eyes widened and the dreariness disappeared from his body at the sight of Karl, distressed, in front of him. Karl held a hand to his heart, his lower lip quivering.

“Karl?” Sapnap asked, sitting up slowly. “Has something happened?” His voice dripped with growing concern. Karl couldn’t respond, his heart still swelling beneath his fingertips. Sapnap rose from the bed soundlessly and approached him, stepping in close. He held his shoulders loosely, shaking them the slightest bit. He called out his name again.

Finally, his face broke and he gave Sapnap a watery smile. Cold tears dripped down his cheeks and Sapnap lifted a finger to swipe them away. His hand lingered there, then moved to the back of his head and guided him into his chest. His arms swirled around Karl’s waist and held him in a tight hug. Karl pressed his cheek into Sapnap’s strong chest, listening for the beat of his heart beneath his ear.

“Nothing’s the matter, Sap,” he spoke finally. His voice faltered, raw with sincerity. “I’ve only just realized something.”

Sapnap pulled away from him and held Karl’s face in his hands. His palms were warm on Karl’s wet cheeks.

“What have you realized?” Karl could see a nervousness in the deep confines of Sapnap’s eyes. Karl’s head tilted in closer, their lips hovering just a hairsbreadth apart.

“How much I am in love with you.” Their lips brushed when he spoke and it sent butterflies diving down into his stomach. He felt the exact moment Sapnap’s breath hitched. One of his hands moved, slow as molasses to rest in Karl’s hair, and then their lips were touching fully. They moved hesitantly against each other, unsure of themselves, until finally they both seemed to realize how perfectly they fit together, and relaxed into it.

Sapnap’s mouth was so warm and inviting it made Karl whimper softly. At this Sapnap dug his fingers into his scalp and kissed him deeper. He bit gently down on Karl’s bottom lip. Karl’s fingers danced around his upper arm then slid down to circle his forearm. Sapnap broke them apart and they remained close while heaving in breaths. He grabbed onto Karl’s wrist and brought the both of them down onto the bed.

They slept like that regularly, curled in each other’s arms to ward away any lurking nightmares. They existed consistently in their own bubble, and it was easy to forget the rest of the world also progressed around them. Once Karl admitted his feelings for Sapnap, they were requited back effortlessly, and every day they fell more and more for the other.

Karl was happier than he realized a person could be in life. He had his Sapnap and food on the table each day, and that was all he needed.

They stood in front of their humble palace just after dawn one morning to watch the sun rise. It was not yet the heat of summer and there was a cool breeze that passed over them. It smelled of the woods that covered the mountainous island. Sapnap suddenly swept to the side and faced him fully. Karl smiled and hesitated before tearing his eyes away from the beautiful horizon to face him.

Sapnap’s eyes gleamed, taking in the handsome face of his partner. He took a step closer and pressed their foreheads together. Karl smiled and gently took hold of one of his hands between them.

“I love you,” Sapnap said. Karl blushed a deep crimson, even though he already knew this to be true. He pecked Sapnap’s lips, grinning the whole way through.

“I love you, too.” A peaceful silence settled over them. The far away call of birds carried on the wind.

It was then that Athena appeared to Sapnap for the first time. She had been watching him since his birth, taken up a dire fondness for him, and protected him ever since. His wit impressed her greatly, and she presented herself to the two of them in a burst of golden light. Karl jumped back and grabbed Sapnap’s arm tightly in fear, clinging close.

“Relax, young Karl,” said Athena, her voice high and beautiful. It calmed the both of them thoroughly to hear it. She was dressed in her fine Olympian clothes that billowed around her. Her long brown hair moved in silky waves that flirted in the breeze.

“Sapnap, you speak with the knowledge of the world and I regard you with utmost respect. Together, the two of you will spin great tales and harbor unbound love.”

“Thank you,” Sapnap said, speaking low. He was staunchly modest and they both dropped to their knees in praise of the Goddess. She ruffled Sapnap’s hair and touched Karl’s shoulder, then was gone. She had blessed their union and they looked at each other with wistful excitement.

At long last, the two were married, and they embraced whole heartedly.

-

The good times could not last, though. If Sapnap had his way, he would have stayed there with him forever, but conflict always came to those least expecting of it. The day the messenger came they were away from their palace, weaving among the trees of the forest near town. Berries the color of burgundy and flowering blooms decorated Karl’s hair from where Sapnap continued to weave them in. Every time he found one that he liked, he would pick it with pinched fingers, pull Karl into him, and slip it into the mop of hair on his head. Then Karl would giggle in his girlish fashion and Sapnap would lean down to capture those pretty pink lips in a kiss.

Karl clasped his hand around Sapnap’s wrist and dragged him to a bubbling creek running through the woods. In it he saw his reflection and his hand flew to his mouth. He looked like a dryad. He bit his lip coyly and bent down to get a closer look in the water. Sapnap followed him, crouching down beside him. They looked perfect together, the shimmering mirror image of them rippled.

Karl dipped a hand into the water’s cool surface. It was silky and slid easily from his fingertips. In a quick movement his hand darted back in and splashed the water onto Sapnap’s face. The other spluttered and wiped at his eyes, then he scrunched up his nose at Karl. He was about to say something when Karl leapt on top of him, pushing him down into the soft fertile earth on the forest floor. It was a rich brown that filled their noses with the scent of soil.

They both laughed freely and wore wild smiles. Sapnap grabbed him by the chin and dragged him in for a slow and loving kiss. Karl chuckled into his mouth. He sat back, still straddling Sapnap’s middle, and reached up to pull a flower from his hair. It was a sunny yellow one and he tucked it safely behind Sapnap’s ear.

The messenger waited for them for hours, they had only a cook and an attendant in their home, and both were too busy to notice him. Alone, he waited, until finally the pair waltzed, merry and tender, into their own courtroom. They were still covered in remnants of the forest, and Sapnap stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the person waiting for him. He quickly brushed the flower out of its place behind his ear. It fell to the floor soundlessly, and was forgotten.

Sapnap did not cry when the messenger told him he was being called to war. He nodded firmly and sent him away. He waited until they were behind closed doors, where he could cradle Karl in his chest and weep into the hair of his most beloved. Karl curled his fingers into the fabric of Sapnap’s tunic, clinging hopelessly to him. He did not think he could bear to let him go. They slept fitfully, not allowing even the smallest amount of space to separate their bodies. Karl tried to push the image of himself alone in their bed away. He tried to ingrain the feeling of Sapnap’s body, his warmth, into his mind, so that hopefully he could return to it on the cold nights that would follow.

He had not thought his heart could hurt more, but it did impossibly so the morning Sapnap left. He thought it might split in two in his chest. He wondered if he could die from want of his spouse. Hot tears pooled in his eyes and streaked down his cheeks. They dripped off of his jaw and splattered against the floor. Sapnap hugged him, his head fitting perfectly over his so that he rested his chin on Karl’s hair. He whispered softly that he would return no matter what, that he was protected and that it would be okay, they would be reunited soon.

_“It cannot last long, I promise.”_

He kissed Karl one last time, and was gone. Karl’s lips tingled where Sapnap had kissed him and he touched them gently with his fingertips. He stood in the doorway of their home for hours, watching the sun arc across the sky and wishing somehow that Sapnap would return to him at the end of the day.

When finally the sun began to set with its brilliant pinks and purples that usually made Karl squeal with delight, he turned around and slunk miserably back into the palace. His eyes trailed on the floor and his hand pressed down on his chest, trying to hold his heart together. That is when he saw it, the flower that had fallen from Sapnap’s hair. The one he had put there. He sunk to his knees in front of it, newfound tears falling. He picked up the bud carefully and held it between his thumb and forefinger. It was still alive and beautiful somehow. He kept it with him, refusing to release it even as he fell into a heap on their bed, that was dark and lonely without _him,_ and screwed his eyes shut. His fingers circled it still as drifted off into a wretched sleep.

-

The war Sapnap had been called away from was not one he could avoid. He cursed himself for having that stupid idea all those years ago to swear to Helen. But that was where he had met Karl, and he would never go back on that. Helen had been swept away in the night by Paris of Troy and was hidden somewhere in their walls. Agamemnon was calling everyone who had sworn to come and fight to return her to her husband. They told him it would be short and they would all return rich and heroes. He didn’t care much for either of those things. They were lies anyways.

He was first sent to the tiny island of Scyros on a cruel mission. To recruit the Hero Achilles. He did not want to, his own forced recruitment still fresh in his mind. He did not want to take another man’s life from him, but the prophet Calchas had made it known that they would lose without Achilles. He had also made it known that Achilles would die on the battle field, if he chose to fight with them.

Scyros was a difficult island to maneuver around, with a long and wily dock that they almost crashed into twice. He and the King Diomedes travelled together, and while he did not particularly enjoy the company of the King of Argos, he was glad to have a companion if things went awry.

The King Lycomedes greeted them kindly enough and invited them in to dine out of courtesy more than true desire for their company. Sapnap rubbed two fingers against his temple, this was not going to be a fun task. Diomedes elbowed him in the rib, smirking awfully.

“Ready to fuck up some lives?” Sapnap could only nod. He resumed his usual countenance, tossing jokes and quips like it was second nature. He introduced himself to the king and to their guest, whom Sapnap had not quite been expecting. He recognized the boy from so long ago as though his face had been imprinted into his memory. Son of Menoitius, but when he inquired he was met with a different name. _Son of Chiron._ And then later, simply, Patroclus.

The boy had grown and changed drastically in the years that separated their last meeting. He was covered in lean muscles, a smaller frame, but one with much strength hidden below the surface waiting to pounce. His eyes were dark, sunken, and Sapnap noticed they way they flickered continuously to him. It was a tell of nerves.

With a cunning precision, Sapnap asked the question that would prove the answer or not. “Where are your dancers, King Lycomedes? Might we get a glimpse of them?”

Lycomedes hesitated and that was enough to tell him all he needed to know. Patroclus stiffened as well, but neither could justify why the girls could not be shown off. Diomedes picked at his teeth greedily with a knife beside him and waited.

The girls came out in a line, covered almost completely in loose garments. Their faces were hidden behind colored silk and bracelets jingled as the danced. They were beautiful, but Sapnap did not have to try hard to stay focused. He thought only of Karl, and none of the women meant anything to him. It was easy for him to pick out which dancer was the fleet-footed Achilles in disguise.

A horn blew from just outside the palace doors. Diomedes had given the signal, and the girls on stage scattered. All except one. Achilles crouched low, eyes darting around the room for the source of the danger. It was only once he realized that there was none, that it was a trick, that he dropped his stance and pulled the fabric from his face.

He was stunning, of course, as all the whispers had said. A most deadly weapon.

“Greetings, Prince Achilles,” Sapnap said. Achilles looked at him with eyes of quiet fury. He understood the feeling perfectly, and it pained him for the briefest moment.

From there Achilles and Patroclus would travel with them. Achilles took to Sapnap quickly, enjoying his hearty company and seeing a glimmer of himself in the elder. Patroclus was not so quick to trust, and regarded them all through guarded eyes. The only time Sapnap ever saw the wall drop was when he looked at Achilles. He knew very quickly that they were more than companions.

It was almost impossible to keep his mouth from blabbering on about Karl all day long, but he was weary of judgement from his more ruthless company, namely Diomedes. Instead he wove a tale of lies and his husband transformed to a wife every time he opened his mouth. It ached in him each time, and tasted terribly stale on his tongue.

Night was nearing, and they pulled into a harbor to dock for rest. Camps were set up on the coast line and the crew moved to serve dinner before tumbling off to sleep. Sapnap watched the two young men lingering at the edge of the camp sight, speaking rapidly in confidence. He wandered closer under the feign of leading them to their tent.

They followed him, still talking animatedly. Sapnap smiled to himself, it reminded him so much of how Karl and himself were. He gestured to the singular tent.

“One is enough, I presume,” he said. Achilles and Patroclus exchanged looks and tensed. They were preparing for ridicule, to have to cover for themselves. He could see the lies they was shuffling through. Sapnap allowed the sadness to seep into his gaze and he gave them a weary smile. There was no one else around. “Do not worry, it would be very hypocritical of me to judge. I think my husband would have smacked me on the arm for such a thing.”

A mixture of confusion and surprise took over both of their features, then Achilles grinned as wide as Sapnap had ever seen him. Patroclus bit down on a smile then circled Achilles’ upper arm and bid him goodnight before dragging them both into the tent. On his way in, though, he paused to send a kind look over his shoulder.

Sapnap wondered if he should have brought Karl with him, but quickly he realized he would never drag him into a mess such as this. He could not risk losing Karl here. He needed him to come back to.

-

The Trojan war was long and suffering. It took a grievous toll on both sides, and lasted for an alarming ten years. Sapnap was continually at the center of it, becoming the sole reason they won the war. If not for his genius planning and brilliant mind, they would not have come home successful.

In the midst, they suffered great loses. Of which Sapnap mourned most heavily the death of both Patroclus and Achilles. He had seen the blank eyes Achilles wore without his other half, and it scared him to the very core of his being. In the end, it was more merciful for Achilles to move into the afterlife with him instead of remaining in the miserable Overworld.

Finally, Sapnap started his journey home. He was itching all over to see his husband. The war had left him exhausted and ravaged, and the only thing keeping him sane the whole time was the image of Karl waiting for him back home. Karl among the tall trees, with a smile and blush on his cheek bones. Karl pressed into the sheets next to him, sleeping peacefully. He turned to his crew in great spirits and set the sails for Ithaca.

-

Karl waited and waited and waited for his lover to return. Weeks turned to months turned to years. Every once in a while he would get news of the tide of the war, and he would always ask the same thing, fear making his voice tremble.

_“And of Sapnap?”_

The answer was always the same.

_“He lives."_

The relief he felt every time he heard the words was so strong it was as though a hundred weights had been lifted off his shoulders. His Sapnap was still out there, he would still return. He waited patiently for his husband, not once losing faith in him. He passed the days in the fields, in the ocean, in the forest. He reveled in the nature that was his own land while Sapnap was away.

He introduced himself to every person living there, staying for dinner and helping to plow their fields. The people grew to love him just as much as their ruler, and Ithaca prospered and grew. He stood each sunset at the crest of the hill their home sat on and looked down on the town below with pride. He hoped that when Sapnap returned, he would be just as proud of all he had done there.

Then, at long last, the news came that the war was over and that the Greeks had won. Sapnap would be returning home. He ran to his favorite place behind the palace, the flowering fields where the grass was green and brushed against his waist. He flung his arms out and spun around, yelling at the top of his lungs.

_He was coming home. He was coming home._

Every morning and every evening from that day on he stood and watched the horizon line for the blinking of a ship. His heart swelled and giddy love ran through his veins. He had collected flowers from the field and tied them together to give to him upon his return. Every night that he left without Sapnap drained the life out of him once again until he was back to his original downcast loneliness and he had still not arrived.

The war had been over for years, and Sapnap had not returned yet. Many nights Karl had gone to bed with tears crusted on his face in a cold room. His heart longed for the person that was not there, the prospect of his death haunting him at night. He screamed and punched his pillows in tragic despair.

_“He was supposed to be alive!”_

_“He was supposed to be here by now!”_

Still, he held out. He did not falter in his resolve. Although it seemed silly to others that he not move on, he could not fathom it. Even if Sapnap was dead, he did not want any other.

The people of Ithaca came to see Karl as their ruler and word spread quickly around the kingdoms that he was unmarried and a king. Neither claims were true, but that is what they believed. When the first suitor approached Ithaca, Karl thought it was Sapnap. Happy tears were already streaming down his face when the boat docked and he raced forward to meet his lover.

The disappointment that flowed through him was debilitating, and the woman who had come to meet with him turned abruptly and left. There were others, more and more frequently, after that. Few came from afar, like the first, but many came from Ithaca itself. The daughters of nobles were sent to woo Karl so they might have a better life than the rest of their family.

Karl hated it. He scorned every one of them, eyebrows pinched in disgust, and turned them away before they could even get a word in. They were persistent as the years marked on, and Karl was forced to divulge a plan to avert them. He stood before the crowd of his people and held up his hand. He kept his shoulders back and his chin high as he spoke, even though Sapnap’s absence weighed so heavily on him always he sometimes could not get out of bed.

_“I will not take any wife until I finish weaving a funeral shroud for the late Sapnap.”_

And so he wove every day a part of this shroud for a man he did not believe to be dead, and each night he sat dutifully in their bed and undid all of his work from the day before. For three years he did this and was free of suitors.

It was a late autumn evening when the chill dropped out of the air. Karl sat on the bed, cross-legged on top of a quilt he had pieced together as a distraction in the early days, and pulled the strands of the shroud out one by one. He stopped what he was doing and glanced around the room. He blinked and there was a women stood at the foot of the bed. He jumped and cowered against the head of the bed, pulling his shroud up to his chin.

It was Pallas Athena, with her kind grey eyes. She brought an air of comfort before him, as she had so many years ago when he was with Sapnap. Karl lowered his knitting and crawled forward. She touched his cheek affectionately, and her touch was far warmer than any mortal’s. Had she not been focusing on it, he would have burnt under her. She pitied him though, and had watched him grieve endlessly.

“It is time,” she said. Her voice coaxed a couple rogue tears from Karl. He was looking up at her with such fragility she worried he might break. “You must move on.”

Karl blinked past the tears. He shook his head in disbelief.

“No,” he implored softly. But she swiped her thumb across his cheek with an awfully sad smile and disappeared. Karl was left with the fleeting warmth of her hand on his cheek, the only touch he had felt since Sapnap had first left, and a hole so deep in him he thought he would lose himself whole to it.

-

20 years. It had been 20 years since he had been home. If Karl’s face were not ingrained in his mind so thoroughly, he might have forgotten what he looked like. Often, he would recall it in the dead of night just to keep himself going. He was sure that without the sturdy pull to return home to him, he would have given up years ago.

The journey to Ithaca had been postponed and lengthened and thrown off again as the Gods toyed with him. Challenge after challenge he bested solely so that he could sail home to his husband and live a happy life. That was all he wanted.

He returned to his lands in the dead of night. He was too exhausted to even lift himself from the deck, and so the Phaeacians carried him to shore and left him there. He sunk into the sandy beach of Ithaca and smiled madly, for he was home, and somewhere here was Karl. The awful thought that maybe Karl had not waited those 20 long years for him did not even occur to him.

A women stood over him, blurry behind his vision. The moon was to her back and he would not have been able to make her out had he not been so familiar with her. Athena greeted him again, kneeling beside him. She coaxed his hand from his face and swiped his hair back.

“Much has happened while you were gone,” she said to him. Her words were secretive. “I am going to disguise you, so that you may see for yourself.”

He blinked up at her, the words not registering. “Will you take me to him?”

She shook her head. “You must do that on your own.”

Sapnap fell asleep and when he woke up, she was gone and his body was changed. He stared at his hands for a long time trying to make out what had happened. Then, he rushed to the sea and stared down into its depths at his own reflection. It came back old and decrepit like he had aged far beyond his years. Athena’s words rung in his ears. _I am going to disguise you._ Why would he need to be disguised in his own kingdom? _So that you may see for yourself._

Sapnap drew up from the ocean, his bones protesting beneath him, and wobbled towards his home.

-

Karl stared out at the rhythmic crashing of the waves on the shore. He sat in the sand and watched the horizon for the last time. He felt drained of all emotions, no tears fell. Empty. He put his head in his hands and gripped at his hair. Sapnap was not coming back to him. Thinking about it made his chest wrench painfully and he almost broke into sobs again. He lifted his head, tossing his chin in the light spray of the tide. His fingers dropped to rest on the rocky sand, digging into the rough grains.

It was a gloomy day, and he thought it might rain later. The clouds pulled together in thick grey sheets across the sky. He couldn’t see the heavens above him and he felt even more alone. He dragged his fingers around in the sand subconsciously, drawing patterns into it. He sighed when he looked over.

He crawled forward, and stuck his forefinger into the wet sand, writing out a name. He sat back and watched the tide come up and wash it away.

_Sapnap_

He returned to his home and hid himself in the walls of the palace, wandering tiredly. He caught sight of himself in the sleek marble of their baths and cringed. He looked a mess. His hair was wind-blown and salt-crusted, his eyes weighed down with dark purple bags, and his clothes were wrinkled and askew. He touched his cheek gently where so many tears had streamed down. There was almost a worn path in his skin.

His attendant crept up behind him, but he saw her in the reflection and smiled brokenly. She looked at him in soft sorrow and moved closer when he nodded for her to. He sat down in a chair and she hovered over him. She brush his hair with her fingertips, combing it down, and washed his face with cool water. She brought him a change of clothes and rubbed oil into his palms and up his forearms. When she was finished he felt lighter and smelled of uplifting pomegranate.

He stood and rolled out his shoulders, still staring forward at himself. He looked different, the years had worn on him and the grief had drawn deep lines into his forehead. She pulled his arm gently and he collapsed into her, accepting her hug gratefully.

The town had been made aware, despite his adversity to it, that he was finally willing to take a wife. The place was lively with the flurry of women darting around to make themselves as beautiful as possible. It Karl’s mind, none of them would ever live up to Sapnap, who had been effortlessly gorgeous, as well as kind and smart.

He walked through the bustling streets of Ithaca like a ghost, wrapped in his white tunic. His feet dragged across the dusty streets and his face did not change no matter where it looked. People bounced and shrieked when he came near, and he gave them each a stoic nod. Someone called out to him, and it was a voice he had never heard before, deep and rasping. He turned sluggishly and faced the stranger.

“You are the King Karl, then?” The man asked. He wore rags and was marked with old age. He bent over a walking stick and was barefoot. Karl thought he had known everyone in Ithaca and so he frowned.

“I suppose I am. And you, beggar, I have not seen you around before. Where do you hail from?” He asked. It was the first time his face had broken since he stepped among the people. The beggar smiled toothily and tilted his head. There was something familiar about the motion.

“I am a traveler who has not been home in a long time, my lord.” There was a note of wistfulness that rose in Karl’s face. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and he beckoned the beggar to follow him.

“Come, you deserve a good meal and some company.”

He led the beggar back to the castle. The cook brought them cheese and olives and bread, and they ate lightly while the beggar told Karl of all of his adventures. He had been everywhere, and done remarkable things. Karl, mystified by this strange person, hung off every word. He had not had conversation so thrilling outside of his husband.

“I do not wish to talk about myself any longer. Won’t you divulge me in some of your own tales?” Karl blushed and turned his head down to the table.

“I’m afraid I do not have many to tell. I am from Sparta, but I moved here with a companion many years ago. He is the rightful King here, perhaps you know of him. He left to fight in the Trojan war and has not yet returned.” Karl’s voiced dropped on the last few words. He grew considerably more withdrawn, but a charm danced in the old man’s eyes.

“You speak of Sapnap. I have heard of him, I fought next to him many a time.” Karl’s head snapped up and his eyes looked deeply into those of the old man.

“Do you know where he is?” A shining hope in his eyes. The beggar frowned.

“I am sorry, he is dead.” The words dropped like a stone in the ocean to the bottom of Karl’s stomach. Tears burst forth from him finally, and bubbled over like a dismal waterfall. The beggar reached across the table and touched his arm. Karl covered his face, heaving sobs into his hand.

“Thank you,” he stuttered out, breaths shallow and catching in his lungs. He hiccuped and shook his head. “P-please, Eurycleia, won’t you attend to our guest.” He apologized and rushed from the hall. He buried himself in the blankets of the bed that had long since lost Sapnap’s smell on them.

Eurycleia gently took the beggar’s arm and helped him up. She led him to the baths and went about cleansing him in the same devoted way she had Karl earlier in the day.

“I apologize for my lord’s abrupt departure,” she started. Her voice was mellow and tired. “He cared a lot for King Sapnap.” The beggar only nodded and let her scrub the dirt from his body. His muscles were still taut and knotted, and she took the time to work them out.

It wasn’t until she reached down for his leg and noticed the scar crawling up it, that she realized who he was. She sucked in a sharp breath, fingertips just barely touching the jagged scarring, and her jack slackened. Her eyes flitted back up to the man’s face and he raised his eyebrows. She opened her mouth to say something, but was stopped by a silver figure behind him, one hand clamped gently on his shoulder. The grey eyes held a threat in them, and Eurycleia did not let a word slip from her mouth of the revelation.

The beggar was still there the next morning when Karl stumbled down for a meager breakfast. He apologized fleetingly and hunched over the table across from the man, who regarded him thoughtfully.

“You will not be able to hold off the suitors any longer.”

“I know,” Karl said. He rested his forehead on the table and curled his arms around his face. His body felt weak and heavy and his mind spun in cloudy circles. He had cried all night until his body finally gave out.

“You will have to marry one of them.”

“I know!” Karl tossed the word angrily into the air. He did not want to marry anyone. He growled and pulled on the brown strands of his hair lace between his fingers.

“So give them a challenge.” Karl paused and slowly unfurled himself to look at the beggar.

“What do you mean?”

“Challenge them to string your late Sapnap’s bow. Whoever can do so, you will marry.”

Karl’s eyes watered at the idea of anyone touching the weapon that Sapnap had loved so much, but it was a good and just plan. No one would be able to do it. He nodded slowly and the beggar grinned.

The people were not pleased with the challenge. Karl released it under the guise of wanting a strong wife to be his equal. Of the women gathered, many had learned to hunt out of necessity, but Sapnap’s bow had been heavy and would be hard to pull back. In the end not a single one of them could do so.

“What are you looking for King Karl? A husband! This is ridiculous,” one of the noblemen called out. Karl almost smiled at the humor of it. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off. At his side the beggar was stirring. He stood up, uncurling his shoulders and standing tall and broad over the crowd. Everyone silenced to hear him speak.

“We are not yet finished here.” His grin was cat like. “There is one more contestant.”

Karl’s brow furrowed in confusion and he stepped up, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You are mistaken, there is no one else.” He shook out of Karl’s grasp and continued forward.

The beggar reached out and picked up the bow. It sprung to life in his hands and he easily strung it. He pulled back the arrow and let it fly directly past Karl’s head. It landed perfectly in the trunk of a tree, dead center. The crowd was hushed with anticipation.

“It seems I have completed the task,” the beggar turned, dropping the arm holding the bow to his side and pulling off his hood with the other. For Karl, the world stopped turning in that moment. The beggar was no longer an old man, but as though time had turned backwards, he stood strong and gorgeous and _alive_.

“Now you must marry me,” Sapnap said, holding his arms out. He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. Karl dashed forward, wrapping his arms tightly around him. It was a miracle. Karl pressed his face into his chest and flung his arms around his neck, trying to squeeze them as close as he could to make up for lost time. Sapnap laughed loudly, throwing his head back and drinking in the warmth of home. He dropped the bow to the ground and crushed Karl against him, digging his fingers into his sides and kissing the top of his head madly.

“We are already married, you fool,” Karl whispered into the fabric of his shirt. Sapnap chuckled and nudged his head back so he could see his face. His eyes never left Karl’s as he closed the long awaited distance between them and his lips finally landed where they belonged. Karl tasted just as sweet as Sapnap remembered. They barely had time to notice the crowd around them before Sapnap was hefting Karl up into his arms and carrying him away.

“He will not be taking anymore suitors,” he called over his shoulder. “If you are not pleased, leave.” The words carried an airy playfulness, but was a warning all the same.

He carried Karl to their bedroom and threw him down on the bed. Karl cackled and sunk into the pillows, but Sapnap hesitated, mesmerized by his beautiful husband finally before him. Karl bit down on his lip and darted forward, grabbing his collar and pulling him down on top of him.

“Never leave me again,” Karl said, leaning into Sapnap’s lips. Sapnap smiled into him, brushing his mouth over the other’s.

“I wouldn’t dream of it."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this!!! I really like this one!
> 
> Next one is gonna be another Dnf and then maybe for the last one I'll do another Karlnap, so stay tuned if you're interested in reading more <3
> 
> P.S. please comment if you think this is good I'm so hot and cold about my writing 😔


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